Sherlock at Hogwarts
by duyen.debbiephan
Summary: What if the characters of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's magnificent "Sherlock Holmes" went to Hogwarts? Meet: Sherlock at Hogwarts.


There was a sharp metallic _clank_ as the Hogwarts Express came to a stop, stopping at what I could see; an old-looking castle surrounded by a large body of water.

"Here we are, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Harriet muttered. Unknown to her, approximately five people were listening just behind her.

I felt a sharp nudge near my ribs. As anyone else would do, I turned around to face a grinning boy, a bit taller than her. He very much reminded her of a little boy that she saw earlier on the Express, and she was nearly certain that he was the one that she was going to talk to.

He nodded gracefully towards the great body of water surrounding the Castle then turned to face directly to me, and then back to the rippling aqua.

"The Black Lake, Watson. One of the finest views."

"How did you know my name? We haven't even met before."

"Pass me your pet owl, please." As Harriet did so, he examined the cage completely, and then shoved her back in my hands. "Easy peasy."

He grinned at her in a boastful manner.

"I know that you're a muggle born, judging by your lack of knowledge of wizarding families when Sally Donavan quizzed you and Anderson on whatever rubbish I had stopped listening to. I know that you have a younger, what is it again? Oh yes, brother, should be obvious, since the tag on the cage of your Barn Owl says so. Works in the Military, trained at Barts, you said so yourself; same applies to your name. And just before you were about to ask the obvious; no, I was not the frizzy haired boy you saw in the compartment in front of you, I was in the seat two compartments behind."

"I'm sorry, but what's your name?" Harriet asked.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"That, was absolutely astounding. You got everything correct."

The boy turned around. "Did I?" he asked, in fascination. "I normally get just one thing wrong, actually."

She hesitated, then muttered a response. "You're correct. John's my older brother."

"Thought so. Must've been talking too fast."

 _Astounding, nevertheless,_ Harriet thought, just before an unknown voice started calling for all of the first years. To her surprise, Sherlock started walking the other way. "Mr. Holmes! Where are you going?" Then she decided against it.

"Too smart. Way too smart."

The first year witches and wizards were marching up the Great Hall, led by Professor "McGongagall", a new name out of many which they had learned here at this spacious castle.

After the Sorting hat had done its house song, the professor began to go down the roll, calling each name family first.

"Donovan, Sally" was the first to be sorted into Slytherin, then came "Anderson, Phillip". He was the first of Hufflepuff House.

Sherlock sneaked through an opened door in Hogwarts Castle; he had been collecting some wormwood from the nearby forest. He had been cautiously aware that it was forbidden, as well as its useful extracts, and for the first time he had to give thanks to his brother, Mycroft. The golden child of Slytherin House, the older redhead was always a stress, and he had a feeling that he enjoyed having a younger brother to bully. Everyone told him that it was highly forbidden, which he found very annoying, but not many had told Sherlock of its excellent use.

Making a mental note to take frequent visits to the Forest, he crawled through the door, stuffed the wormwood in his pocket, and walked briskly to the Great Hall, wondering what House he could be sorted into. What House would he be sorted into? He considered the question.

"Not Gryffindor, they're total morons." he muttered straight away. Why would he be interested in little dancing lions? "No, no, not Mycroft's House, for my lives' sake." He could see him, in Slytherin's green and black house colours, across the room. "And for Hufflepuff, I'm not really their golden child." At least that's what everyone said about Sherlock Holmes, he thought.

Harriet had met a new friend, Molly Hooper. She had been completely unaware that Sherlock had gone, _vanished_ , until McGongagall had reached near the bottom of the student Roll, Molly's name and her's.

"Hooper, Molly."

Molly stepped up onto the platform, looking excited but nervous. "Hufflepuff!" Naturally, the Hufflepuffs clapped as Hooper joined their table.

As the Hall silenced, Harriet started to finally question Sherlock's whereabouts. "Sher…?"

"Watson, Harriet."

"Hufflepuff!" the Sorting Hat bellowed. With a glance around beforehand, he knew that he was the last one. It was obvious, he could just read through the stains on the piece of parchment the woman was holding. He was at the bottom of the list.

"And finally, Holmes, Sherlock."

He stepped up and sat on the chair, and in less of a second, he found himself gazed by approximately a thousand students in this magical school. Looking around he deduced that a stumpy Hufflepuff on the table's far left was Quidditch captain and two brown and blue eyed Gryffindors were Prefects.

"Doing a little thinking, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes." Sherlock growled. "Get on with it. Suggest a House."

"Hmmm. Let's say I put you into-"

"Gryffindor, you were going to ask. Who am I to enjoy prancing, dancing lions? They don't take me seriously enough. And while we're on this subject, let me finish this off. Hufflepuff. They don't take me seriously enough either, Sorting Hat. So no, I will certainly not go there. And just in case you're wondering, I can't stand being with Mycroft. He's a Prefect; he could beat the gods out of me. And anyway, I need a use for that blue scarf. Ravenclaw?"

"Fine. RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaws cheered as they welcomed the last and final member, Sherlock Holmes. The man himself allowed a small sly smile as he looked straight ahead at his house table, the one behind his brother's. "The house of the sharpest minds," he chuckled, than found himself a seat exactly five seats from the rear, next to a cunning girl, a little older than he was.


End file.
